I’m awake. It’s 5:03 AM. I’m walking in the rain today. While I’ve had a drizzle three other days, those drizzles didn’t amount to much or bother me much. Today’s forecast, 100% rain between 8 and 4. I’m apprehensive.

I make myself a cup of Nescafé. Yup, it still hasn’t improved. I eat a bowl of porridge. “Please Sir, I want some more.” I’m not punished like Oliver Twist, but I only find one packet of Quaker instant oatmeal. Oh well, my saved apple will help.

At 8 AM, I talk to Sheila my BnB host who has already tended to her horses. “What did you decide?” Knowing the forecast last night, she had kindly offered to drive me a few miles to lessen my walk. With a macho response last night, I said “I can handle some rain!” This morning, my response is more meek “I don’t want to impose, but maybe a few miles would make today more doable.”

Sheila drops me off at Boscastle, saving me 4 +/- miles. It’s drizzling. I walk through this small village which was overwhelmed by rain and flood waters in 2004. Fortunately, the government, the insurers, and a vibrant community spirit restored the village. It even has a Witchcraft Museum and Nomis who is climbing a building.

I meet two different couples. An elderly couple is strolling the street, umbrella in use. “Good luck on your walk. A wet one.” Yup. A German hiking couple is leaving town as I am. Following a sign which takes us on a footpath off the main trail, we pause. They put on their rain ponchos. I pull out my iPhone and look at my hiking app. “Dang, off the trail already!”

We get the trail sorted out. The view above Boscastle is wonderful. Definitely spirit-filling. There is this pesky rain. It isn’t like that freezing February rain when the Over the Hill Hikers took over Len Foote Lodge in the north Georgia mountains. Still it is a cold rain. The rain and wind do a tag-team. The rain comes hard and then slackens. The wind picks up, and then gusts to 20-30 miles per hour according to the weather app. The 50-degree temperature makes it rather chilly in these conditions. “Well, what is in store for me today?”

Hiking in rain is definitely not ideal. If the trail has some gravel, then the water drains. If no gravel, then the water puddles in low places. Every couple of hundred feet, I meet those low places. After a while, I rather cockily say “Heh, this isn’t too bad.” Never say, “this isn’t too bad.”

I hit the real ascents and descents. The south West Coast Path is described as a roller coaster. Some days I ascend 1000 feet; other days I ascend 3500 feet. Where there is an up, the South West Coast Path guarantees a down. Furthermore, this is shale country. Shale was mined here and sent hundreds of miles for building projects. When wet, shale is as slippery as Stone Mountains granite after a rain. In order to avoid slipping and falling on my face, I tell myself “OK Lindquist, take it slow!” My already slow pace becomes even slower.

I’m not the only one walking today. Sheltered by a stone wall, I meet and talk with a couple from Wales. “Wet day today!” How often do we state the obvious! “How’s it ahead?” “Just like this, trail doesn’t get any easier, but nice views.” We honor the hikers code of conversation. The weather. The trail. The views. Universal topics for all hikers. We wish each other the best; we head off in opposite directions.

There are others on the trail, three working to replace a rotten bridge over a small creek. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been grateful for the bridges and raised walkways.” The foreman chats about their work. “This is a nice break from our usual construction work. The council has given us a contract to repair or replace a dozen bridges between Bude and Newquay.” Sometimes a government entity can actually do something helpful rather than fight!

Like every other hiker, I smile when I see Tintagel in the distance. Well, I see the tall, imposing Camelot Hotel, a Victorian 1899 creation taking advantage of the 1800’s association of Tintagel with the legends of King Arthur. Although the rain has stopped for a while, I heave a sigh of relief.

In addition, I see, to my relief, my nights destination. That isn’t enough though!  I have a comforting companion for a good 30 minutes. As I look to the right, a complete rainbow begins in the Atlantic Ocean and ends in the Atlantic Ocean. I could almost reach out and touch this promise of comfort and beauty.

I enter Tintagel. “What is that on my left? The Pendrin Guest House!” I don’t even have to use google maps to find my lodging for the night.

My shoes are soaked. My pants are muddy to my knees. My t-shirt and rain jacket are as wet as can be. But, I’m here! Despite the rain, despite the gusting wind, despite the chilly temperature, sometimes we just have to let the edges of our mouth turn into a smile and shape the words, “We made it! And in one piece!”